JEM incorporated
by Monkey Ruler
Summary: It's been years since Warren last saw her. He's a superhero, now, and pretty damn good at it. He just gets a little out of hand sometimes. WxOC, third in the Pyrophobe series.
1. A SetUp

Warren Peace was a hero. Really.

They made business cards.

Hotshot. Certified Superhero. XXX-XXX-XXXX.

Being a superhero meant, along with the powers, he was trained in what was right and wrong. He was levelheaded in the face of certain death, and he had a fancy-ass uniform.

Right now, out of the rather short list of requirements for being a superhero, he just had the superpowers. And if anything, he had too much power.

Honestly? He blamed Skeetzo. The poor excuse of a supervillain just lived to try his patience. First, he sent_ plasma blast _after blast into the crowd (but did they really have to watch all the time? His job wasn't like a wrestling match. There was no ring.) Then, the little bastard went and got a _hostage. _Some teenage punk with bright neon blue hair and big startled eyes that looked at him like a Bambi deer and for a second flashed a fiery amber that just got his blood _boiling._

Well, his blood _burning _would be more accurate.

Warren Peace, in that situation, did what every hero in that situation was trained to do. Save the citizen, then secure the villain.

So he ended up burning a large crater into the ground with his enthusiasm (his powers have been getting a little more kick aas he's been getting older.) And so what if his fire-proof uniform got a _little_ destroyed around the arms and torso. He may have been a little out of line when he started wailing on the guy, while he was on fire, and Will may have gotten a little singed when he tried to drag Warren off the bastard... So what if he got carried away. It's not like Stronghold was invincible. Warren's sure he got hurt before... Sometime. He definitely got burned before his powers kicked in.

Skeetzo may have filed a restraining order an sued for hospital bills and the like, but the girl was safe and that was all that mattered.

The bit about the uniform getting destroyed, though, was a little bit of a problem. He only had the one, because not only was he too new to the whole Superhero thing to have any major sponsors yet, but he also never really saw the need to have more than one. If he didn't join up the league with Will, he would've contented himself with being a small fish saving the world in his old leather jacket and a pair of jeans.

The league had an _image, _though, and even though he was a rookie he had to maintain that image. His uniform was as plain as he could afford. Just black spandex with red armor. Hell, he could've just ordered a plain uniform online. But Layla and Magenta _insisted _that he go to this fancy boutique he didn't give two shits about. They were moving up in the ranks, their little ragtag group, and the girls were pushing the rest to get better uniforms.

The boutique was called Jem. Maj and Layla had already gone, spent hundreds of dollars on clothes, and came back stylish and expensive-looking. And now they were in the papers almost as much as Stronghold.

That would be interesting and all if Warren _cared. _Over the years, he learned that arguing with the girls was pretty useless. Hell, trying to resist any of the group only managed to waste his energy. Even scaring Ethan shitless lost it's appeal after awhile. The boy always came back. Like a puppy.

Stronger men than him would've given up eventually.

He smiled a little bit, scaring some of the civilians around him, remembering the time when Zach clapped him on the back after taking care of that cave-in. His shoulder flamed up and gave the glowstick blisters. Sure, the lecture Layla parroted to him afterwards had him itching to punch a wall, but the frightened look on Neon's face had been worth it. And if Magenta could laugh about it, it couldn't have been _that _bad.

Warren took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Time to man up and get it over with. It's not like it was some mutant villain terrorizing the community with it's acid projectiles again. It was just a _store_.

It looked like a pretty average store, actually. The clothes he saw in the window were civilian ones and as fancy looking as any regular boutique you'd see in the city. If he had girl parts, he'd probably say it was the shit. But he had man parts. Which means he didn't care for this at all.

He walked through the door anyway. If he had the wrong address, then tough shit for the girls. Finding the _right _place would probably take too damn long and he'd end up missing his appointment. If this didn't work, fuck protocol. He'd just save the world shirtless.

"Hello, welcome to Jem! Can I help you with something?" The girl, barely out of high school (not that he was much older, but still,) looked up from her magazine with a perky smile. He smiled back, reluctantly, and did a quick sweep of the store. All civilian clothes.

"Uh, yeah. I'm wondering if I'm at the right Jem. I have an appointment scheduled? Under Peace."

"Oh! The 1:00?" She asks, shuffling some papers around at the wooden counter she was standing behind. The whole place was filled with antique furniture, the clothes looked like high-end designer shit that girls went crazy over, and was he _really here right now_? "Right in the back, sir. Maia! Can you take Mr. Peace to the back?"

"Right away." A familiar-looking redhead came into view from seemingly out of nowhere.

"Ah." Of course. One of the girls from Sky High. That was why the girls were so insistent they get the clothes from _here_. That jacket in the corner looked familiar, too. One of Maj's favorites. They were probably here all the time.

She gave him a small smile at the look of shock on his face and led him through the clothes to a door in the back.

"I'm kind of surprised you're here." She says quietly as they enter a small office. There are those sewing mannequins (is that what they're called? Fuck, he doesn't care enough to know,) in the corner, civilian and super alike, and a long black desk with a neat little sketchpad and a sewing machine on it. He doesn't really have much of an opinion on it, other than it's a little cluttered with the boxes of fabric and the pages and pages of designs tacked onto the wall.

"Why is that?" He asks, able to keep up a conversation and observe his surroundings at the same time.

She gives him another smile, and he's beginning to think that she knows something he doesn't, because the smile looks like it's expecting some type of reaction. He reluctantly smiles back.

"Nothing, nothing. I'm overanalyzing. Tea? She'll be a minute. Some packages just came in and she's signing off again."

"I'm good, thanks."

"Right. I'll just be outside then, call me if you need anything."

"Sure. Thanks." More smiles were exchanged before she left.

He let out a breath of air and took out a book. Perfume, the story about the serial-killer who made perfume out of the women he killed. It was a little twisted, but doing good for a living made everything fluffy feel like work. A few minutes with Jean-Baptiste's mind and Warren heard the door click.

He stood up out of habit (because superheroes were nothing if not polite,) and turned around to shake hands with the woman he'd be working with. Maybe it'll be another super from school. Like that psycho Janice or something. She always seemed into fashion.

He stopped short.

The hair was darker, longer, her features more defined, the makeup less severe, but it was _her. _All grown-up and filled out, her legs going on for miles underneath the pencil skirt and put together like a fucking _model _or something.

Emily.

His one that got away.

Author's Note: I couldn't resist myself. I have a whole ton of other stories to finish, but I couldn't help it.


	2. A Meeting

Emily blinks once, twice, sweeps her eyes over his frame, flickers off to the side where all her fabric is piled, looks back at his face, exhales, and then sucks in her breath quickly and flashes him a grin that drops as quickly as her blinking.

Then she's composed and shaking his hand and moving to her desk where she can feel powerful and keep a barrier between the two.

"Mr. Peace. You're interested in a new uniform?" She asks, avoiding his eyes and opening a sketchbook.

"Uh, yeah." He mumbles, sitting down and resisting the urge to shift awkwardly like Stronghold would have done.

"That's your old one in the bag, right?" She asks, gesturing towards the trashbag he had set down next to him.

"Want me to take it out?"

"If you would." The side of her mouth tilts up a little bit. The one that says, 'You're not a toddler. I don't have to spell everything out for you, do I? Keep it up, buster. Idiocy is only amusing in the beginning and I don't have a lot of patience.' This is probably the first time she's using it on him.

He complies and holds it up.

She winces and he raises an eyebrow.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

Warren was a little offended.

"What?" He asks, as if there weren't anything wrong with the monstrosity that was his uniform. The grin he gives her is more a baring of teeth than anything.

"This is why I don't watch the news. God, looking at this... It's like the uniforms from Save the Citizen, isn't it? Those things were ugly as fuckmonkeys." Atleast her vocabulary was still the same.

"Hey, I can always go somewhere else."

"But you didn't. And Layla probably wouldn't let you either. When did she give birth to you again? Cause you need to cut that umbilical cord, man."

"Funny how we're out of high school, but you still talk like you're in freshman year."

"I'm not a superhero. I don't need to kiss ass."

"I'm a paying customer. Of course you need to kiss my ass." Oh God, he sounded as awkward as Stronghold.

"I'm being honest."

"You're being rude."

"I'm just saying that while your body can pull of spandex, it's really pushing the badass image you're supposed to have. I mean, the Human Torch is good in spandex. Loves that shit. Can't get enough of it. Real exhibitionist. You, however, look tacky."

"Wow. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

* * *

"So how did it go?" Layla ambushes Warren as soon as he gets back to his apartment, and he's wondering why he ever used his real adress when he was registering into the league. Magenta is right next to her, grinning at him expectantly. It's a little disconcerting.

"Pretty good, considering I was tricked into seeing Perkins again."

Maj reaches her limit and the smile drops back into her usual stone-face.

"Whatever to your snarky comments. When are you seeing her next?"

Warren opens the door to his apartment and stands in the doorway, blocking the entrance to the two girls who were trailing behind him.

"This isn't some ploy to get us back together." He states. He refuses to make it into a question.

The two shake their heads and mumble out denials.

"It's just..." Layla starts after the two felt they had lied enough, "You've been a little bitter since you two split up. You know, for good."

"Didn't you even wonder what she did after she graduated?" Magenta asked, crossing her arms.

He thought she joined the X-Men with her parents. Never bothered to actually check.

"She isn't as happy as she can be either." Layla stares up at him with big blinking eyes, expecting him to break down into tears or something, "You two were meant to _be _together, Warren. Don't let life get in the way like it has."

She puts a comforting hand on his arm and he does something he hasn't since they first met.

His arms flame up.

"Oh real mature, Peace." Maj comments, looking pointedly at how Layla was holding her hand and pouting.

Warren slams the door in their face.

* * *

"Ms. Perkins?"Maia pokes her head through the door, "Mr. Storm is here to see you."

"It's Emily, Maia. After years of being friends, you'd think that me being your boss wouldn't change that. Tell the loser I'm busy."

Emily waves around the faceshot of Warren Peace she printed off the internet.

"He already waited through your appointment with Mr. Peace. I tried sending him away already. He's not moving."

"But I'm _busy."_

"Too busy for Chinese?" A head pokes it's way through the door and his body follows, maneuvering himself around Maia with a bag of Chinese takeout in his hands.

"Make an appointment."

"But you don't have any plans right now. No appointments for the rest of the day. Sweetness said so." Maia looks a little shamefaced at the look Emily gives her, and instead of offering an explanation she disintegrates into a cloud of dust, "So relax a bit."

"I have a deadline. I'm a fucking _professional, _Torch."

John leans over the desk and picks up Emily's headshot, "Come _on_. You hardly let yourself relax. You're not replacing me, are you? With.. whoever this is." Of course he knew who was. You can't be a firestarter with a six pack without knowing about all the other firestarters with six packs.

He goes to the other side of the desk, hovering over her and blowing into her ear.

"Please. He's not nearly as annoying as you." She wriggled out from underneath him, eventually elbowing him in the gut to escape.

"And not nearly as attractive. Right, babe?"

"You are so full of yourself."

"Well, when I've got a gorgeous woman like you, how can I not be?"

"Really?" She brushes his shoulder and picks at a long, red strand of hair on his arm, "And how long did you have this one? Was it a leggy beauty with a miniskirt or a nice hot pair of daisy dukes?"

"Miniskirt. But don't worry, she could never compare to you."

"I thought your lines were more original than that." She smirks.

"Babe, you have no idea how original I can get."

"I think too much sex has fried your brain."

"And too little has turned you into a stick in the mud."

"Hm, maybe you're right." His eyes light up, "Maybe I should get into one of the lacy designs I caught you looking at the other day, and we can see how hot it can get before my sheets burn."

The teasing smirk ruined the flirtatious tone she was using, but he finds himself inching closer regardless. Until she backs off and turns cold. Tease.

"And then you can wake up all freaked out and never talk to me again."

"It won't be like that." He says it convincingly enough even he believes himself. Except she's smart

"You're not my first playboy. And you're definitely not the first person to say things'll be different."

"You really don't have any faith in me?"

"I don't have faith in the _both_ of us. I have just as much commitment issues as you, Storm." She tries not to look at the headshot on her desk, "What'll happen if you find me with another guy?"

"I'll torch him."

"You'll _try _to. But when I won't let you you'll get pissed, I'll fight back, and we'll be done. Outside of work and family, you're the only one I have in my life."

"Same here."

"So let's not ruin this because you can't keep it in your pants."

"You're no fun."

"Go out then. Get laid. And then make a fucking appointment next time you come over."

"Come _on, _what other girls can control fire? Do you know how many women I've burnt? You're _built _to handle me."

"You sound desperate."

"For you, maybe."

"And douchey."

"Well, I am a bit of an asshole."

"Understatement."

"Aren't you the least bit curious? My powers, your powers, a fireproof surface."

"I'm pyrophobic."

"Bullshit."

"Ask my therapist. I've been fucked up since the beginning."

"You're not bullshitting?"

"Nope."

They're silent for a bit.

"So how's therapy going then?"

She wasn't pyrophobic at all anymore. But it was better than telling him that his powers reminded her of the only long-term relationship she's ever had, and that she was designing a new uniform for the man that she was with.

"Peachy. I'm thinking about getting one of those BFF necklaces. You can have one of the F's if you ask nicely."

"Be still my heart."

* * *

**Author's Note**: Oh no. I added a rival (I think I have a bit of a crush on Chris Evans). And made Warren bitchy. How will things be resolved? Why are Warren and Emily avoiding each other so much anyway? Did more happen since the last story to make them like that?

Will there be flashbacks?

All will be answered in time.


	3. A Flashback

**FIVE YEARS AGO**

**XAVIER MANSION**

"I am gonna be _so bored._" Johnny complains, following his team into the mansion, "It's nothing but kids and old people in there, isn't it. I mean, yeah, the main team is hot and all, but half of them have gone gray already!"

"Johnny, stop being so disrespectful!" Sue chastises.

"Yeah. Heard one of the _main team _has super hearing. And claws." Ben warns.

"And that guy is _how _old now?"

Ben rolls his equivalent of eyes and pats Johnny hard on the back. "I'm sure you'll have fun playing with the kiddies."

"Yes, Johnny, it was very gracious of them to invite us over despite never formally meeting us before. After all, though they have established an open-door policy for those in need, it's not very often one gets a personal invitation to one of their personal gatherings." Reid looked just about ready to swoon.

"So you're saying other hot Supers got invited. Not just us?" Johnny grinned a little, though he couldn't think of any hot Supers in the news lately, other than himself, "This is like the countryclub of freaks. _Nice._"

Sue smiles a bit instead of chewing him out like she thought he would, and knocks on the door.

Storm answers the door, smiling like the elegant host she was, and beckons them in.

"Storm, thank you so much for inviting us." Sue says, shaking hands with Storm and exchanging all the pleasantries while Johnny scopes out the place.

"Please, call me Ororo,Storm is just my field name."

Up close, she doesn't look _nearly _as old as the grey hair lets on, "Then you call me _Johnny_." Johnny gives her his sexy face and cuts in front of Sue to shake her hand.

"Alright, Johnny." She smirks back at him and then nods to a hairy, muscle man that comes up from behind her.

"You can call me Wolverine." Hairy then cuts in front of Ororo, stealing Johnny's hand and cracking it a bit.

"That your real name, Buttercup?" He asks, shaking his hand out. That little bastard had some strength.

Wolverine's hand clenches into a fist and he lifts it up to Johnny's face, big metal claws sprouting from his knuckles.

"Yes."

Ben chuckles and offers his hand, "I'm Ben. And this little pain in my ass is Johnny."

"Charming, the both of you." Johnny sneers, "I'm going to go mingle with everyone." He gives Ororo a little nod of the head, "Milady."

And he books it before he has to take on the new Thing-Wolverine duo.

He wanders for awhile, collecting drinks, horsedeurves, and admirers as he makes his way through the mansion, and finally spots his target.

The white hair's a little iffy, but she has a young face, a model body, and the blue skin is exotic instead of disconcerting. Like _this _is the first alien he thought was attractive. Reid wasn't the only one who was a Trekkie, although for Johnny it was more of a phase, and with Reid it was his _whole entire life_.

He swoops in, all smiles and funny pickup lines, and he's sure she's falling for him hook, line, and sinker. Her name is Janice, she's not an alien but a _shapeshifter _(and wasn't _that _interesting?) and she's only here because her best friend's parents were badass hot X-Men, especially the mother, and goddamit she's a lesbian isn't she.

A blond skater boy comes in, wraps his arms around her, and plants a big one on her. Okay, not a lesbian. Just… Bicurious? And taken, though that's hardly ever stopped him before.

"Quinn." He introduces, holding out a hand.

"Johnny."

"Yeah, I know you. You're that fire guy, right?"

"The very same. My work name is the Human Torch."

Quinn nods, then grins, "I'm Simon."

"Simon?"

"You know, Simon Says." He explains.

"Ooh, are we doing party games?" A feminine voice asks from behind him and he turns, seeing another attractive young woman, this time with blue hair, fiery eyes, and big Monica Bellucci lips. He checks out the whole package and likes what he sees, along with the slinky black dress and heels. "Tell me you're gonna make Logan polka or strip or _something_. _Please._ I'd kill for that."

"Nah, we're just doing the basic introductions. Name, codename, power. All that jazz." Janice explains, pulling in the new girl and planting a kiss on the cheek. Definitely bicurious.

"So your power…" Johnny points at Quinn.

"I tell people to do something and they do it."

Johnny nods and backs away a little bit. Then he smiles at the pretty new girl.

"And you?"

"Emily Perkins." She holds out her hand, as Janice adds in that that was the best friend she was talking about.

"Johnny Storm." He says, holding in the cheesy _enchante _he really wanted to land on her.

"The Human Torch?"

"Got it in one. And you?"

"Fashion designer."

"Oh, no powers?" He's a little surprised, but welcomes it a little, "That's cool. This is the first time I've been surrounded by so many Supers."

"I didn't say that." She smirks, "I just don't run around in tights saving the world."

"Well good, neither do I." He leans in closer and smirks right back at her, giving her his strongest sexy face, "I run around in a very breathable spacesuit."

She laughs, loud and addicting, and he chuckles a bit while staring at her, a little smitten.

And then Wolverine makes his appearance again.

"Blue," He nods at Emily and Johnny internally rolls his eyes at the original nickname, "Torch." He growls.

"Logan." Emily drawls, pulling Wolverine in for a hug.

"Oh shit, he's not your father, is he?" Johnny asks. He hadn't had to worry about that since high school, but Supers were like Greeks, sticking with family for generations, "Shit, did I just move on from the mom to the kid?"

Emily laughs again and he finds himself smiling. Again.

"Nah, he's just the alpha of the pack." Quinn supplies, and Johnny isn't so creeped out by the dude anymore. He's pretty useful. "And he doesn't like flirts._"_

Logan growls and Quinn grins at him. Instead of beating him up like Johnny thought he would, he turns to the firestarter and points a finger.

"You watch yourself." He warns, and Emily rolls her eyes.

"Come _on, _Logan. Don't be such a grouch. You don't see my dad swooping in all testosterone and whatnot."

"That's because your _dad_ doesn't need to do shit until the guy lights up."

Johnny is a little wary about this girl now. Supermodels were easier, because their parents were far, far away, and who wouldn't want their little girl with a superhero?

"And mom doesn't need to snap a fucking _finger _before dad can't do shit regardless. I'm not a _child, _Logan. I can snap fingers."

Another one joins the group before Logan can respond, and grabs the hairy arm with a gloved hand.

"Hey, sugar, I can feel your anger all the way across the room. It's a _party_, for heaven's sakes. Allow the girls to flirt a bit, will ya? Ah, you must be Johnny." The Southern Belle grins and extends a hand, "I'm Rogue."

"Nice to meet you." Johnny says graciously, kissing the outstretched hand and grinning, "I guess people weren't lying when they said all the X-Women were beautiful."

"Now lets let the children have their fun, Logan. Ororo's wonderin' where you got off to."

"_Stripes_." Logan says meaningfully, and the two share a silent conversation. Johnny is unable to keep up with the silent words.

"What is so interesting over here?" A tall, stunning beauty asks. A little old for his tastes (along with Rogue and Ororo, for that matter,) but he can appreciate a bombshell when he sees one. Tall, dark, and well-endowed are the first things that come to mind, and then striking ice blue eyes. She's followed by another man, but other than pretty eyes and crazy hair the guy doesn't have much that stands out amongst this particular crowd. "Are we having fun with the guest of honor?"

"You flatter me." Johnny grins.

"Oh, hi." The woman says, treating his as an afterthought before embracing Emily, "My baby's an entrepreneur! Just like her grandfather, only without the whole terrorism bit." She kisses both cheeks, hugs her, and then lets the man hug her. "Although I can't see him much into fashion."

"Come on, mama." Emily blushes, "This is Johnny Storm, from the Blue Man Group."

"Hello." Suddenly the woman is detached and composed, reaching out to shake a hand. Supers were _so _much more crazy than regular humans. This woman was practically bipolar, "Wanda Maximoff. And this is my husband, John."

John reaches out to shake his hand, and a fireball appears in his hand. No doubt for a little intimidation.

"Neat trick." Johnny smirks, and the Torch's whole hand is engulfed in flames.

"Same to you." The two shake hands, and Johnny grins when John extinguishes the fire in _both _of their hands.

"Even neater."

"Two Johns, and both Pyros." Wanda rolls her eyes, "What can we call you, Johnny-boy, so my head doesn't get confused?"

"The Human Torch."

"I'll just stick with Torch." Wanda says, before looking between Johnny and her daughter. She smirks, "And I'll let you kiddies get on with the night."

And so they do, and it is a wild night indeed. By the time they've gotten drunk off of wine, there has already been an arm wrestling match (with the _Rogue _chick as a winner, and apparently that chick has the biggest medley of powers since Johnny's run in with the Silver Surfer,) that quickly dissolves into a wrestling match that Ben wins, to make up for the dignity lost with the arm wrestling. Then it turns into a race, with Johnny being _this close _to being runner up. He knew he couldn't win, because one of the guys had _super speed, _but he would've gotten first place if it weren't for the dude who's codename was _Cannonball_.

Yeah, being drunk with a bunch of Supers kind of sucked. You couldn't win anything.

But having a pretty blue-haired Super that wasn't a hero be his unofficial date was kind of cool. Apparently she was just like her dad, meaning that whenever he got a little hot (he was drunk) she cooled him down with a wave of her hand. It felt... Tingly.

He looks at her, putting down the beer he got from what Emily called "Wolvie's Secret Stash" and smiles. This is his future wife, and though it is not the first time he thinks this about a woman that he only met hours ago, this time it's really _real_. He hasn't been into the punk hair since high school, because bad boys had nothing on bad _girls_, and he thinks him being able to get over that is a sign that this girl is the one. His other half. The friggin' _pyrokinetic _to his flame. This is the girl that's going to keep him in line.

Loud laughter interrupts his thoughts, and he looks over to where Reid is with his new best friend, this furry blue guy with glasses, and is it just him or is blue a common color in this house? A blue guy with a _tail _runs by him just as he thinks that, and disappears in a cloud of black smoke.

Emily interrupts him just as he's about to make a comment on all the blue.

"What's it like to fly?" She asks, and gives him a naughty little smirk.

"The real question is," He points a finger at her, "How do we get to the rooftop? Oh, and how fireproof are you?"

Emily gives him the biggest grin he's ever seen on a grown-up, and drags him away.

He almost _hears_ the creak of metal when Rogue holds Logan back.

* * *

Johnny wakes up the next morning hungover, still a little drunk, with his head buried in a sea of hair and his arms around bare skin. His hands explore her body a bit because even though he feels like shit, she kind of feels awesome, and is only a little disappointed when he finds the lady is still clothed. But the day is just beginning, and the rustling means that she's waking up too.

And they are in his bed.

He's just glad that it's blue hair he's waking up to, and that she's still as hot as he remembers. Whenever alcohol is involved, you can't be too sure that you stay with the hot chick, or that the hot chick is involved at all.

"Hello." He says, trying his best to look like he planned everything.

"Mmrren, you smell like ash without the cigarettes." She says, burrowing deeper into him.

He lights up, because this is the only girl where he can light up and _not _have to apologize after, and runs the flame over her skin. She breathes out a laugh and says it tickles. The fire _tickles _her. He could get used to this girl.

"Ohhh shit." She sits up, now awake, "My dress wasn't fireproof." She frowns at him, "No fair! You wore your supersuit underneath your shit. That's _so _unfair."

"Are you still drunk too?"

"Yes." She frowns even more, "And I want coffee."

"I want your number." He demands.

"You suck." She says, fighting a grin, "We are not going to date."

"Oh really?" She nods, looking very very serious and not at all like she's about to burst into laughter, "And what makes you so sure of that?"

"Because I don't believe in rebounds."

Well that puts a bit of a damper on the mood.

"How about a hot friend?"

"Well, that's okay then."


	4. A Collision

Johnny is in the "customer chair" playing LocoRoco.

It's only in Emily's office that he feels safe playing the game, because Emily always brings her PSP and lets him borrow it while she works. He is too manly to let it even rub shoulders with his own manly yellow PSP, but Emily's was blue and.. well... what shit did she own that _wasn't _blue?

Emily is tapping her pencil on the desk, adding little touch-ups to her design. Johnny is tapping his foot. Relentlessly. Into her desk.

"Do you mind?" She finally snaps, putting her pencil down harshly so it made that satisfying sound against the surface of her desk.

He pauses the game and _does not think the little yellow thing mid-jump is cute_, then looks up and tilts his head at her.

"Mind what?"

"You _know_ what."

"Nooo, I don't." He smirks and the tapping starts up again.

"You little shit_._" She mutters, picking up her pencil again.

"Come _on." _He puts away his game and leans onto the desk, blocking her view of her sketchbook. "Don't be so touchy."

"Then stop being so annoying."

"Then stop being so _boring_."

"Then stop coming here whenever I'm working!"

"Then have dinner with me tonight."

She only blinks at the abrupt change to the conversation. Then she gathers her wits.

"I'm having a business meeting after."

"Screw that, you're just watching movies with the shapeshifter."

"Who is my _business partner. _So suck it. Hah."

"_You_ suck it." Johnny pouts.

She growls.

"If I wanted my comeback, I would have wiped it off your mom's chin!"

Johnny was quiet, looking at her for a few seconds, before bursting into laughter. She resists at first, but eventually follows his descent into hysterics.

"Come on, Storm, it's time to go. My follow-up is coming in a bit and you're gonna mess with the clientele."

"Only if you'll have dinner with me."

She rolls her eyes and stands up, dragging John with her. He takes that moment, her attempting to shove him out of the office, to get a real good at her. She looked attractive, as she always did, but her hair was a little bit more styled, her clothes a little more polished, and she had an extra half-inch of height than was the usual for her.

"Emily.." He says slowly, looking her over once again. She had more makeup on, too. Almost as much as when they first met at the Christmas party. "Are you trying to _impress _anybody? Namely, me." He gives her a cocky grin.

"No..." Her ears were red, and her cheeks had the slightest tint to them. If she weren't wearing makeup, she's probably be a tomato, "Shut up. You're dumb."

"Emily? Your follow-up is here." Maia says, her head peering in through the doorway.

"Great. Now get Storm the fuck out of here."

Emily brushes down her skirt and fixes her blouse before smiling at the door.

Maia opens the door all the way and Warren walks in (and Johnny notices how well-dressed the little bastard is too, although for all he knew the douchetool dressed like that all the time. Frigging collared shirt and _slacks? _Really? Was this a younger Reid with different hair?)

It was lighter-boy. His fire rival.

"So this is my replacement." He says, just a little ticked off. Yeah, he had tons of women at his beck and call, but they were all _at his beck and call_. He never got _replaced, _"You think you'd atleast _try _and get someone more attractive than me."

Johnny popped his collar.

"Excuse me?" Warren growled, giving Johnny a death glare.

"Gosh, I'm getting all tingly down there. Where'd you snag this one, Emily?" His grin turned a little vicious, "Which bridge did you wander over?"

"Did you just imply a man in a three hundred dollar jacket was homeless?" Emily smiles at the poorly thought-out insult.

Johnny was quiet for a moment.

"I didn't say that was my best insult, okay?" Damn, he should've compared him to a dog or something. He should've been picked up at the _pound_. That was a good one. The man was _growling, _for Christ's sake.

She laughs and he knows there's no real damage done. That girl acted snarky, but when it came down to it she was pretty damn hard to piss off.

The man, whoever he is (yes, Johnny can feign ignorance in his own mind,) has some bigger cajones than Johnny would've guessed from the outfit.

"Who the fuck is this anyway?" The man asks, and Johnny scoffs.

"Way more important than _you, _I'm sure."

"Play nice, Johnny." Emily chastises.

"Or I'll roast you alive." Warren mumbles, going back to his high school roots.

"You'll-you'll _what_?" Johnny laughs, ignoring Emily completely, "Buddy, I roast alive on a fucking _hourly basis_. Shoot, I'm the Human Torch."

"And apparently horrible with puns." Warren counters.

"Do you think it's because of your powers, that you attract so many flamethrowers?" Maia asks, before quickly slipping out of the door.

For being Emily's assistant, she _never seemed to help her._

"So he _is _my replacement!" Johnny exclaims, "This is the lighter guy, right? My impersonator."

"I'm not impersonating you if I was _born _into my powers." Warren sneered and Emily rolled her eyes. Apparently the two of them knew exactly who the other was, but only pretended not to.

"Ooh, that burns. But seriously? Your name is, like, Hippie, right?"

"Peace. And yours has something to do with the weather."

Johnny opened his mouth to say something insulting, but Emily cut him off.

"Oh my _god_ will you two get over yourselves. It's not like the two of you are anything special, either. Pyrokinetic, remember? You guys can't even light up around me."

"I don't need to light up to beat his ass."

"_I _can fly, though." Johnny bragged.

"And I can make broomsticks dance like a fucking cartoon. I don't know who you're trying to impress." Emily snapped, "Cause it sure as hell ain't me."

"You were pretty impressed at the lunch I brought." Johnny sniffed insultedly.

"That was Reese, right? Or Sue."

"Elastiboy, of course. Bugged him to death but it's worth it, right?"

"You don't make your own food anymore?" Warren asks.

"You cook?" Johnny also asks.

"I don't have time for grocery shopping."

"You're making excuses. That's boring." Johnny protested.

"I'm with a customer right now."

"Whatever, he can wait. Tonight. Dinner. I'll bring salad. And we can grill something. No takeout like usual."

"Usual?" Warren asked.

"Yeah, as in suggesting that dinner with just the two of us is a regular occurrence. I take it that you're one of those wanting types that she's too good for, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't worry, she's way out of your league. Pyrophobic, you know. Which means that since you don't have such a trusting relationship established already, you're shit out of luck."

"Shut up Johnny." Emily elboys him sharply in the rib.

"What? I'm just saying that out of the two, I have more history. Right?"

"Wrong." Warren said.

"Excuse me?" Johnny did that thing where his voice sounded flat, but his smile hadn't dropped yet. But it was going to, real soon.

"We used to date. In high school."

Johnny looked at Emily for confirmation and she nodded reluctantly.

"But you're not going out with me because, what. I'm a fireboy and it freaks you out, or because whenever I light up it reminds you of him?"

She stayed silent.

"Unbelievable. And what, you're going to go back to him now?"

Warren looked at Emily to gauge her reaction, but she stayed stoney faced.

"No."

"So... us...?" Johnny asked.

"I don't know. Fuck decisions." She opened the door to the office, noticing that Maia the fucking coward had already left. Helping some customer on the floor. _Hah. _

"Dinner still on?" Johnny asks.

"I never even agreed to it." She snapped.

She slams the door on both of them.

"I'll email you the sketches!" She yells to Warren, before sagging down to sit on the door.

"Oh, real fucking mature!" Johnny yells through the door.

"Shut up! I'm overwhelmed!"

"Same as usual." She hears Warren says through the door.

She gets angry at that, because she is fucking _mature _now goddammit, and opens the door.

"Come in and sit in the fucking Customer Chair. We have an appointment."

Warren comes in, and she holds up a hand to stop Johnny from coming back in, too. He looks at her betrayed and she gives in.

"I'll see you at dinner." She sighs, resigned to her fate.

He is appeased.

He sneaks in a kiss on the cheek before he makes his escape.

"That little shit," She mutters to herself before turning around to face Warren and putting on her Business Smile, "So, let's get down to business."


	5. A Flashback II

FRESHMAN YEAR

SKY HIGH

They're walking to the buses, Warren not even bothering with a backpack today, a heavy silence hovering over them. Finally Warren turns around and grabs Emily's elbow, dragging her away from the group. Quinn looks like he's about to say something, but the glare Warren sends him promises a fiery death, so he shuts up. For now.

"When am I going to see you again?" He finally asks once they're out of general hearing, and she looks nervous. It's the last day of school, and after months of shuffling around each other he's fed up with it. Hell, he hated it from the very beginning but he put up with it for her.

"Whenever we see each other?" She knows how vague she sounds and hates it, and hates how she's getting lost in his deep, dark brooding eyes. Dammit, why is she so weak?

"Are you really going to Xavier's next year?" Shit. Busted.

"Who told you?" He rolls his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me yourself?"

She shuffles around, trying to think of some stupid excuse before blurting out the truth. "Because I was scared?"

"Fuck, Blue." He runs a hand through his hair, "I thought we were getting better."

"We are! I think. I don't know! I don't know how to act around you anymore!"

"The same as you always did. A big mess of crazy." She slugs him on the arm and tries not to melt a little inside when he grins at her.

"Now," He says with that deep, serious look that makes all the girls swoon, "When am I seeing you again?"

She shrugs her shoulders in the typical uncomfortable manner she's adopted around him lately. He sighs and closes in, a calloused and warm hand tracing her jaw and settling on her cheek.

"I like Chinese food." She says meekly, wondering if it's good or not that he makes her feel so vulnerable.

He kisses her on the forehead.

"I'll sneak you free eggrolls." He gives her a crooked grin.

She melts inside.

* * *

Meanwhile, back on the ground...

"Fuck, I can't believe it's finally over." Haylee Stephenson, middle-school graduate, stretched her hands up and cracked her back.

Maia Stanton, also middle-school graduate, looks a little wistfully at the rickety building they're walking out of for the last time. Today is the last day she'll be surrounded by normal, carefree teenagers. Summer she'll be staying at the villa where there's no one for company but her mother and the maids, and high school she'll be floating amongst the clouds with supers perfecting their blindingly white Hero Grin.

"Wanna go get some Chinese?" Haylee asks, giving Maia a rare, carefree grin, "I'm craving some Kung Pao like a _mofo_."

Maia shrugs, and Haylee flicks at the salon-quality red hair her friend has before ruffling her own shaggy black and neon-colored do.

"Come on, we'll go to Paper Lantern." Maia perks up a bit, "That hot busboy should be working today. Him and his sexy muscles. And now I'm a sexy _highschooler. _He doesn't stand a _chance."_

Maia smiles and links arms with her best and only friend.

"You can pay."

Her smile weakens.

* * *

A/N: Oh no, not another OC! Yes. Another one. Don't worry, it's just for the flashbacks and plot development.


	6. Alone Time

"So, what do you think?" Emily asks, handing Warren the sketches, "I wanted to get your okay on the design before I did anything."

"Is that how it usually works?"

"Probably not. You're probably supposed to tell me what you want _before_ I start designing shit, right?"

Warren shrugs wordlessly and looks at the design Emily sketched up. She got better at drawing, definitely. Before she couldn't even make a straight line without a ruler.

"I'd look like... A surfer."

"Really? I was kind of going for a clean-shaven Johnny Depp without the hat. You'd look good in a fedora, though. Just not when you're fighting crime. What do you think of the design?"

"Are you sure I can't just have my old suit mended?"

"Why? Don't you like it?" Emily asked, adopting a sad look.

"No no no, I like it. I just.. Don't know?"

"Weren't you articulate in Sky High? Just a bit? Let me guess, you and Willie switched personalities."

"Willie?" Warren wrinkled his nose.

"It bugs him whenever I call him that. You should try it, there's this little vein in his forehead that just goes," She did jazz hands. He realizes that she just said she was in regular contact with Stronghold, "Pop! Listen, I'll talk to my people and we'll get on your new uniform right away. But, in the meantime, let me measure you."

Warren raises an eyebrow, but takes off his jacket nonetheless and stands up when she approaches with a measuring tape.

The two stand for a second before Emily gets to work, stretching the tape across his broad shoulders while Warren looks around the office some more.

"Nice landscape." Warren says dryly, focusing on the painting hanging behind her desk. "Very... Ominous."

"It's calming." She reasons, getting his waist measurements and snickering a bit, "A midnight setting is calm."

"It's of a desert."

"A _wasteland_."

"That's even worse."

"Betsy got it for me."

"She's a curator now, right?"

"Yup. She has a show coming up in a few weeks. You should go."

"Yeah? Where is it?"

"Only like, fifteen minutes away from here. Downtown... somewhere. I suck at directions. I have a pamphlet, though. Maybe you can get a fiery inferno just for your headquarters." She teased, her arms briefly wrapping around his waist with the tape. He sighed, pressing himself into her and stumbling when she moved away. She stared at him strangely and cocked her head, "Are you tired or anything? I was getting your measurements, not acting as your personal couch."

"No, no, I'm fine." He said, regaining his balance and flushing.

"Good."

"So... How's everything been?" Emily rolled her eyes.

"I'm pretty sure you weren't this awkward when we were in high school."

"We knew each other.. Intimately... In high school."

"And now you're a pansy! You fight villains on an every other day basis. I'm a fashion designer. I name suit sizes after famous actors. You're a Brad Pitt, by the way. Good on you. What about me are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of you. I just don't know how to talk to you after six years. You've changed."

"The only thing that's changed about me is my image. That and I know how to be a professional bitch. You're the one with the awkward disposition."

"That's not who I am." He gritted his teeth.

"It's certainly how you look. Small town boy thrown into his fame, showered with girls and lavish gifts. He starts to think, 'Hey, maybe I _am _better than all the powerless people.' and he saunters around, not needing to say anything because everything is handed to him on a silver platter. I'm sure there's no need for small talk when you're in bed with super groupies. But here, your world renowned fame means _nothing_. I don't care how many awards you've gotten, and I sure as hell don't care about how hot you think you are in your hundred dollar clothes."

"Says the girl with the superiority complex and designer outfits."

"To the douche who had his hippy mummy make his appointment for him, and probably would've waltzed in like a fucking celebrity without prior notice, if he knew where to go at all. And you know what I would have done?"

"What?"

"I would've thrown your ass out personally."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. Very really."

The two were nose to nose, Emily's heels enabling her to glare up at him without straining her neck too much.

She clears her throat and backs away quickly, grabbing her sketchbook to scribble his numbers on the paper. Warren sighs.

"So you and the torch?"

"I'm an aspiring young female designer who makes clothes for superheroes. The Torch heard the word 'young female' and 'superhero', now all of a sudden we're like this." She crossed her fingers and rolled her eyes. "They've got the costume thing down already with their spacesuits, but I did make him a few jackets. And he brags about it like crazy, which is always good. Brought me hella customers."

She shook her head. She was rambling.

"Listen, I'll cut you a deal. I'll mend your uniform so you can be happy or whatever if I can make you a better one."

"I don't really have a choice in the matter, do I."

"Of course not. Don't be stupid."

"It's preferred for everyone but you." He points out, and she frowns at him.

"Since when did you give a flying _fuck _about the comfort of anyone around you?"

"Since I was paid to."

"You're paid to save lives, not give a shit."

"I'm not Batman."

"Yeah, you're hotter." He grins at her, and she throws him a glare, "Come on, it's not like you're an underwear model or anything. You're Warren _fucking _Peace. Badass extraordinaire. You don't give a fuck about anyone's happiness as long as the world is safe." She pats him on the back and herds him out of the office, "And I'm going to make you a uniform that'll _scream_ about how apathetic you are."

"Screaming apathy?"

"Shut up. I'll call you for a fitting."

She closes the door in his face.


	7. A Flashback III

SKY HIGH.

FIRST DAY OF HIGH SCHOOL.

"I knew I hated roller coasters for a reason." Maia cringed, putting a hand to her stomach to quell her discomfort while Haylee commented on what an amusing shade of green she was.

Haylee and Maia. Best friends forever.

"I heard," A boy whispered from behind the pair as soon as everyone was on solid (floating thousands of feet in the air) ground, "That for Power Placement we have to go up against one of the students in a fight to the death, and the student is a _two-ton rock_."

"That's bull." A girl replied, "They _give _us a two-ton rock, and we have to destroy it."

Haylee rolled her eyes and turned to the two. Maia turned too, because staring at the school when you first arrived was alright, but continuously gaping was a little stupid.

"A rock is going to choose whether or not I can save the world? _Please._" Haylee rolled her eyes with a sneer.

"Bitch." The boy muttered, and Haylee flipped him off before turning back around.

Two minutes into the new school year, and already Haylee had enemies.

"Hello." A cold-sounding voice says from up front. Maia barely makes out a blond head, "I'm Jamie Frost, student body president. I know I'm supposed to make up some amusing speech about how much fun I had in my years at Sky High, and how I'm sure you'll just have a_wonderful _time, but _really_. This is high school. In the air. The teachers are insane and the students are petty. Just don't make anyone too mad and they won't push you off the edge of the school." She paused as if this were the part where everyone was supposed to laugh, and a few freshmen let out some nervous laughter. Satisfied, she continued, "If you'll follow me, then?"

"Frost. The name suits." Another boy said, and the students around him snickered.

Frost turned her head and seemed to look through the crowd straight at him. Maia turned her head, as did the rest of the freshman, and he smiled cheekily and winked at her.

"Name?" Frost asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Jude! Bible-related, not Beatles related, although the music would've been cooler than being Jesus' bro."

She nods, not really caring in the slightest.

"I wonder how long _you'll _last." She muses, before continuing on her way.

* * *

XAVIER MANSION

"I have to get to school." A voice murmurs in Emily's ear, and she groans, burrowing deeper into the warmth, "Em, come on. You have class too. First day as a sophomore. It's exciting."

"Excitement can fuck itself in the ass."

"You'll have to do it for them." He laughs into her hair, "Now come on, let go. We're already late enough as it is."

He's holding her just as tightly.

"I don't want to." Now she's awake, but holding onto Warren for all she's worth, fingers grabbing onto his wifebeater, "Both my parents are _teachers. _Both of them! Imagine all the horror of having _one _teacher as a parent, and then double it."

"You're being really stupid." He says, smiling and patting her head a bit.

"And you're being a bitch." She protests, and he rolls out of bed, half dragging her until finally she lets go.

"Are you going to walk me out?" Warren asks, raising his eyebrow while simultaneously putting on his jeans. Emily felt a little sorry for him, sleeping over all the time but never doing anything. But she lived in a house with a man with an _animalistic _sense of smell, and a father who says that he could _snuff Warren's flame for good. _She loved how accepting Wanda was, and how easily she could threaten the other two. But really, Wolverine had metallic claws and Warren's scent memorized. She'd leave the fooling around to outside of her room.

She crawls out of bed just to latch onto him once again. She doesn't bother with anything more than slippers.

"Nice to know you're comfortable enough at the mansion to walk around with Cookie Monster pajamas."

She looks down and then back up at him as they walk to his car, "I thought this was my Bloo PJs."

His arms support her a little more.

"Sky High isn't going to be as fun without you." He admits once they're at the car, and he's leaning against the door with his hands cupping her face.

"_Life _isn't as fun without me." She points out, and he just kisses her.

When he's finally out of sight, she gives out a sigh lovesick enough that she is disgusted with herself.

Life isn't as nice without _him_.

* * *

"Oh my God school sucks major balls. Why am I up this early?" Emily sighs, her ear length blue locks dancing as she shook her head in exhaustion, sagging into her tall blond electric bolt of a friend.

It was strange, how many blond friends she had, considering they were supposed to be a dying breed. She suspected Quinn dyed his hair, though.

This one was her punk-blond, but she had a neon-blond, skater-blond, and shapeshifter-blond in her collection. The last one was more of a white-hair-blue-skin type, but she thought it counted.

"You're fuckin' telling me." The punk huffed, slinging an arm around her shoulders as they walked down the hallway, "I forgot that seven o'clock in the mornin' _existed_."

"Come on, wimps." Her tall, tan and foreign friend laughed while throwing in a punch to Ray's shoulders, the punk pointing his finger in retaliation and sending out sparks.

Emily grumbled, shoving Ray away from her and smoothing down her hair. She hated his static powers.

"We haven't even gotten to lunch yet. How bad is it? Really?"

Emily flipped Roberto off.

"Who else draws energy from the fucking sun? Bitch. If I could, I would snuff out the sun for good. I just want it to be over already." Emily complains.

"Miss the dorks up in the sky?" Ray tries to tease, but ends up sounding harsh and mean and Emily _is not amused._

"Screw your face into the ground."

"Only if I get to screw the rest of you after."

"Vulgar, my dear sir. Utterly vulgar."

She considers texting Warren, but then remembers that he doesn't get reception up in the clouds. Something about the scrambler keeping them safe from supervillains messing with whatever signal they had up there.

She hopes he's hating the morning just as much as her.

"Stop looking so lovesick," Roberto complains, seeing right through her, "You look pathetic."

"Stop looking so cheery," Emily counters, "It makes me want to slap you."

"Look at him. He'd probably like it. Fucked up little shit." Ray sneers.

"Do I need to find a room for you two? One's violent to the point of sadism, and the other one gets the tingles whenever someone hurts him."

"I hate you. So much." Roberto says through laughter.

"Go back to your little cloud-school. We don't want you here."

* * *

"Hey, did you hear what happened?" Zach asks as soon as he sits down for lunch.

"Yes, you bought glow-in-the-dork underwear. We see it." Magenta sighed, and Warren curled his lips in disgust.

"No, no, not even." Zach gave a guilty little smile, because his underwear really is glow-in-the-dark, "Carbon Copy Kid was getting a feel for the new freshmen, and told me about this one chick who totally _flipped out _in Power Placement when she got sidekick. Totally cursed everyone out."

"She flipped off Coach Boomer!" Ethan added.

"What was her power?" Will asked, "Short fuse?"

Warren gave Will a snort of shame.

"Retractable nails." Ethan supplies.

Magenta snorts. "And she expected to get hero? I turn into a _guinea pig _and even I know her power is lame."

"Are they sharp?" Layla asks.

"What does it matter?"

"Well, if they're anything like my nails they would just break if they tried to scratch anyone. But if they're powerful nails, then that could be something."

"Yeah. Something lame."

"Her name is Haylee something or other. We went to the same middle school." Zach nods at Ethan, "_Complete _beezy, if you know what I'm sayin'. Like, Royal Pain status, fasho."

"Villain in the making?"

"Nah, just a beezy. Only has one friend, some supermodel chick."

"No," Ethan corrects, "It's her _mom _that's the supermodel." Ethan looks a little dreamy, "Although she could be mistaken for one."

"And let me guess. She's beezy number two." Magenta rolls her eyes.

"I am _sick _of all these motherfuckin' bitches in this motherfuckin' school!" Cries a voice a few tables down, channelling Samuel L. Jackson, followed by the sound of a large crash.

Warren winced internally, an experienced busboy, recognizing the telltale signs of dishes breaking.

"Speak of the devil." Magenta mutters.

"She's being very rude, don't you think?" Layla frowns.

"Hey, fuck you!" The girl said, turning around and narrowing her eyes at Layla.

Warren raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" Layla asked.

"I said fuck you, hemp-burning tree-hugging bleeding heart!"

"Hey!" Magenta then stood up to confront the crazy a few tables away. "Watch where you're spewing your idiocy, bitch!"

"I'm a bitch? Excuse me!"

Both of Warren's eyebrows are now raised.

"What did you think you were? God's gift to humanity? Apparently you're a ___dumb _bitch."

"Magenta!" Layla hisses. She thought humanity above swearing.

Magenta, used to this, ignores her.

"Who are you to judge me?"

"Who are you to act so obviously like a self-righteous bitch?"

Quinn and Janice came to the table then, looking at how almost all of the school was watching the stranger and Magenta argue, and sit down with their lunch trays.

"No one's life is even being threatened." Janice whined to Quinn quietly, "Why is this so interesting?"

"Freshman's acting like a self-righteous brat is what!" The shapeshifter from the next table over informed them, cackling a bit.

"Come on, why doesn't everyone just cool down." Will asked nicely, smiling at everyone.

Magenta and Haylee both give Will incredulous looks before they continue arguing.

Their argument went on for quite awhile, all the school watching, Ethan and Zach yelling encouragement at Magenta as the two got closer and closer. Two girls with black hair and brightly colored dye in their hair, both with mesh somewhere on their person, both with severe attitude problems...

Only one had a small fanclub though.

A redhead mumbles something to Haylee, 'Maia Stanton' Ethan informs the group, and Haylee glares at Maia.

"Bitch, who asked you?" Haylee snapped, and Ethan, filled with righteous anger over the pretty girl, snapped.

"Just because you face poor living conditions in your home life and in turn have low self-esteem that makes you lash out and belittle others around you does not mean that you can bully the only friend that you have who is obviously much sweeter, well-mannered and prettier than you!" He breathes out in a few seconds, and the few seconds it takes Haylee to compute what the human computer just said is just enough time for her nails to grow to deadly proportions.

"Oh please," Magenta sneered, "I spent half the summer with a hairy muscle man who had unbreakable metal claws. You think you scare me?"

"You think you're better than me?" She then throws a punch at Magenta's face, causing Maia to squeak her name out in shock and the rest of the school to erupt in cheers.

It was a chickfight.

With fishnet stockings.

The school was happy.

"And in one corner," Quinn starts, standing up on the table, "The shapeshifting spitfire, the guinea pig that saved the school. The glorious, the single-color oriented, the sexy! It's Mageeeentaa... Um..." Ethan whispers in his ear, "Daniels!"

Janice takes this opportunity to stand on the table with him, "And in the other corner! Coming up four foot three with a scenester appearance and a power a _little _bit less useless than the ability to _glow_." She rolled her eyes and nudged Zach playfully with her foot, "Is... Girl who washed out of power placement!"

"Um, her name's Haylee Stephenson." Maia mutters quietly and Janice grins.

"Thanks, babe." She winks.

"I think this has gone on long enough." Will decides, breaking up the fight before it really starts by lifting the two away from each other.

"Shove it up your dickhole!" Haylee snarls, scratching at his arm like a cat.

"Yeah, let me at her!" Magenta pushed against him and glared.

"No! No one is going at anyone!"

The crowd groaned in protest.

"Come on!" The crowd started shouting.

"I know you're a hero, but don't deprive us of this!"

"What'll happen? An hour in the detention room?"

"Atleast Peace isn't ruining the cafeteria this time! They're just hot sidekicks!"

"Twenty on the freshman!"

"I'll pay both fifty if their shirts are ripped up by the end!"

Zach's eyes snap to the last person who said that, a boy with long, tied back black hair and a pointed nose, and him and Ethan immediately stalked over and started yelling at him. He quickly got fed up with the two, and punched Zach in the face.

Then Warren, being a good friend, ran forward and tackled the man.

Thus starting a cafeteria-wide brawl.

Maia only panics when the windows break and vines start pulling everybody apart.

"Mr. Boy!" Layla cries, "Get Principal Powers! There isn't enough shrubbery to hold them off of each other!"

Maia closed her eyes and concentrated, until she couldn't feel her limbs anymore and she was floating, up, up, up towards the sprinkler system. And then the water came down and she blasted in all different directions, causing the cafeteria to panic and run outside.

Mission accomplished.

Haylee and the League of Scruffy Heroes stayed behind, witnessing her pull herself back together again.

"Did you set off the sprinklers?" Will asked her, and she shrugged.

She took off her sunglasses, and lamented how only half came back when she gathered all of her pieces together.

"Whatever." Haylee muttered, "This is only part one." She glares at Magenta.

"Until the sequel." Magenta replies.

"That was smart thinking." Ethan says to Maia, smiling brightly at her, "I don't think the whole school can fit in the detention room."

She smiles nervously at him—Haylee was already halfway out of the room. The group was smiling at her, despite her best friend insulting all of them. She shrugged, then quickly ran off after her friend.

Familiar was good.

* * *

Author's Note: So I don't know if this chapter was a little more rambling then usual. But I'm trying to introduce the new stranger, Maia, while at the same time explaining why Warren and Emily are kaput. So it might be a little wordsy.


	8. An Update

"So how did your meeting with Emily go?" Layla asks, as chipper as she ever is, smiling brightly at him.

"Alright." Warren grunts, heading to the computer room.

"That sounded not so alright." Magenta judges, coming up from beside Layla.

"Sounds like you should shut your trap."

"What, is she not falling for the badass charm like she used to?" Magenta scoffed to herself.

"Do you _have _a death threat?"

"Come on, both of you, be kind to each other." Layla pouted. It was always dangerous when the two of them spoke to each other. Their tempers were both so _short._

Warren rolls his eyes and makes a beeline right to the computer.

"Whatcha looking up?" Ethan asks, rolling over, and Warren is fed up with all of the people and his back bursts into flames, effectively driving away all of the pests surrounding him.

And then types in the Human Torch.

**Johnny Storm.**

Noted womanizer. Thousands of pictures of models hanging off of his arm. Even more pictures of him posing shirtless.

"Super's Most Sexy Smile"

How many GQ covers?

TMZ pops up at the top of the news feed, and it's a picture of Emily and Johnny both in shades and trenchcoats, each carrying a cup of coffee in their hands.

Emily is smiling.

The headline pisses him off.

JOHNNY STORM: FROM MODELS TO DESIGNERS?

"Warren. Warren! You've melted the keyboard already! Cool down before you burn down the whole database!"

"Well, technically-"

"Shut up Ethan and get me the fire extinguisher!"

He is doused with his least favorite material in the world, his fire temporarily quenched, and he glares at Magenta for _daring _to even be in the same room with him after that stunt.

"Now what's got your panties all up in a bunch?" She asks, fire extinguisher at the ready.

He stands up, looking tall and menacing and not at _all _hero-esque, and does nothing but snatch the fire extinguisher from Magenta's hands and throw it across the room before stalking out in a trail of steam.

Ethan squints at the screen.

"Why was he looking up the Human Torch?"

Magenta connects the dots, "Because he's the jealous type."

* * *

Emily is thinking about life.

It's very rare for her. She hasn't been introspective since high school, and boy wasn't _that _a drag. She is watching Priest, despite the utter cheese that it is (and isn't it beautiful that Bill Compton was attacked by _vampires _of all things?) because Karl Urban is sexy. That is the basis for movie night with Janice, and it works beautifully. A night filled with beautiful men on a large screen charming the pants off of the two of them.

But the pretty faces fail to capture her attention tonight. Instead, she is wrapped up in thoughts of the pretty faces in her own life, and it is sucking mightily.

"Oh my God bite me please." Janice begs the screen, crawling up to it and almost hugging it.

Emily does not notice.

Janice frowns, expecting some witty remark from Emily, and turns to stare at the best-friend-and-business-partner that wasn't even _looking _at her. She felt a little bratty for it, but she needed attention.

"Em?"

"Oh, yeah?"

"What's on your mind? Obviously it's not Karl Urban sex."

"What? Yeah, of course it is. Sexy as fuck, that man is."

"Mhmm. Now what's on your mind?"

She considers lying.

But even though Janice isn't a telepath, she's pretty good at reading her mind.

"I think I'm being pursued." She admits reluctantly, and breathes a sigh of relief as if a heavy weight is being lifted from her shoulders.

"What? That's it? I could have told you _that. _Look how sexy you are, idiot. Of course you are. It's the Torch, isn't it? Johnny Storm is all _up _in your yard for that milkshake."

"Yeah. But, I think I'm being pursued by _multiple men_."

"Ooh, spill that gossip juice."

"That sounds disgusting."

"As if you aren't."

"True." She sighs again, "I'm designing for Warren Peace."

"Well, even small up-and-coming—oh. Sheeeit. High school Warren Peace?"

"Yes."

"And he wants your goodies?"

"I don't know."

"I don't even know why I'm asking. Of course he does. And now you've got two flamethrowers but you don't know which one sparks your fire?"

"Basically."

"Well, close your eyes."

"Alright."

"Clear your mind."

"My life is in your hands."

"Which flamethrower do you want?"

"What? I don't know! That's why I have a dillema!"

"Which one popped into your head first? When I say _lighter, _who do you think of?"

"I've known Warren longer, that's not fair."

"And so he's the one with the biggest shelf in your heart."

"It's not that simple!"

"Um, yeah. It is."

She pouts to herself.

"Which one would you pick?" Emily asks, and Janice rolls her eyes.

"That's not even a question. The Human Torch."

"What? But you told me-"

"I'm not _you_, stupid. Yeah, the man can pull of a sixpack, but I'm not much for depth. It bores me."

"Johnny has depth!"

"Don't turn me off, man."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

They're both silent for a moment.

"Supernatural?"

"Get the French Mistake out first."

* * *

"You're back early for once." Is the rough greeting Johnny hears when he enters the Baxter Building. A soft laugh and a 'Be nice' follows in record time, and while Ben's chick is cool, he's just not in the mood.

A woman ended a night out with him, for a _slumber party _of all things. She was giddy going back to her house. But more than that, he offered to _join _her. He was acting like all those other average guys that didn't know how to get with chicks. for the life of them. Has it been this long that he's had to actually _work _to get a girl?

Sure there was... _her, _that beautiful unstoppable force of military stoicism coupled with a few condescending looks, but he had other things on his mind. More than just winning over another pretty face.

Maybe he was just saying that. He was the committed type. He loved the one he was with, always. But as soon as he wasn't with someone, even if he thought he loved them, well... He wasn't with them anymore.

They blended into the background a little.

But this one? This one was memorable. This one had him thinking. Not just of her misconceptions about him. Of his shallowness, his playboy attitude, all of those traits of his that have the girls 'unimpressed'. Hard to get. That wasn't a hard tune to swing by these days, although he still loved the chase.

Emily reminded him a bit of his first love, in a way. What was the name...?

Cammie.

Sharp, independent, beautiful, spontaneous, passionate... The list could go on. They shared that spark that set them apart from the background. Illuminated them in a way that they shined brighter than the world around them.

He passed by Sue's room, and she was playing E.T. Go figure.

The girl could complain like no other, but even that was endearing. Few women made complaining a positive trait.

Johnny thought that he was the only one.

"Johnny? Is everything okay?" Sue asks as Johnny situates himself on his beanbag chair, PSP in hand. Honestly, the woman acts like his mother sometimes.

"Yeah." He says absentmindedly, making a sharp turn in the game, "Why wouldn't it?"

"I don't know. Didn't you have dinner with Emily tonight?"

"Yeah. We ate."

"Oh. Right. Of course." She looks at her watch, "You must've had an early start. It's only eight."

Johnny is honest with her sister.

"We got there half past six."

His game is forgotten by now.

"She had _plans_."

Sue looks almost giddy with the way this conversation is going, and sits down next to him. Emotion talk with her emotionally stunted brother? How exciting.

"With who?"

"The shapeshifter."

"Janice?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Well, girlfriends _are _important. It can't all be about you, or else she'll feel smothered. She seems like the type."

"We went to _Starbucks _for dinner. I made a reservation for a five star restaurant!"

"Did you still have fun with her?"

"The real question is does she have fun with _me_. Shoot, who am I kidding. I'm _me._"

Sue looks unimpressed.

"While I hate your ego to a stunning degree, what I'm about to say isn't for the sole purpose of crushing it."

"... Alright..."

"Not every woman is that one faceless girl in the bar you can pick up with a smile and a witty pickup line. Not everyone is going to jump at the chance to hop into your car and into your bed, no matter how shiny your teeth are."

"Aren't you here to make me feel better?"

"That said, Emily is immature enough at times to enjoy you and even participate in your daredevil antics, and if she ever gets bored of _you, _then she's crazy and you don't want such a destructive force in your life." Sue thinks back to all his past exploits, "Again. You almost lost your ear that one time."

"Her teeth were _sharp." _Johnny shudders, "It's because they were so tiny, I think."

"So don't worry about it." Sue smiles, "Everything will play out like it always does."

"That's not necessarily a good thing."

"Oh. Right. Everything will play out like... everything will just play out."

"Alright. Thanks for the pep talk. I think."

He's lying. That was horrible.

* * *

**To Emily:**

**From Johnny:**

Hey, you free tomorrow? Ill take you to some REAL dinner.

**REPLY:**

dont blaspheme starbucks

**RE:RE:**

Want me to take you to some real coff too? Baristas, babe. They have baristas.

**RE:RE:RE:**

what is this foreign tongue in which you speak?

**RE:**

I come from the land of good food and better coffee. I offer you a passport and a one-way ticket to my country.

**RE:**

fuck yo cuntry. Amrrica btch.

**RE:**

I'll pick you up at six tomorrow. Right after you close up.

**RE:**

aite aite. But I ain't paying fo shit

**RE:**

it's a date then

* * *

"I am such a loser." Emily groans and collapses into a heap of emotional pudding next to Janice.

"It's okay, sweetie, I know."

* * *

"So I heard you're having girl troubles." Warren't best friend and idiot asked, the red, white, and blue clad boy patting him on the back as he sat down next to him.

"I'd roast you alive, but it'd probably just tickle you."

* * *

Johnny studies Reed, tilting his head and squinting his eyes.

"How the hell did _you _bag my sister? Millionaires were after her. _Billionaires, _even."

"It's not what's in your bank account that matters, Johnny."

"And physique doesn't seem to do much either, apparently." He quips, and ducks when Ben takes a swing at him.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I don't know why I keep doing love triangles, when I _know _I'll get attached to both ends and nothing will go as planned.

I am in a writing trend! Just as bad as writer's block, in which all my romantic plots are _the same. _I am way too indecisive to do anything but.


	9. A Flashback IV

Six o'clock, the Paper Lantern, a brightly colored group of individuals met in front of the doors.

Warren had been on the clock since four. However since it was still monday and Chinese food wasn't that popular in white central suburbia, it was deserted enough that the group could find two or three booths next to each other they could spread out in and socialize.

"Is there ever going to be a year when you guys _don't _metaphorically shit all over the school_?"_ Emily didn't know whether to keep on scolding or start laughing.

"That freshman started it." Magenta sneered.

"And you finished it?" Emily snorted.

"Her friend did. Maia." Ethan supplied. He was so cheerful and awestruck all the time, Emily almost didn't notice the slightly wistful expression he had on his face when he supplied her name.

Emily's smirk was almost wicked. A change of pace from her usual thoroughly wicked.

"Hey. You're not allowed to have that look on your face around them unless I'm in on it too." Warren grinned, passing water around the table. Emily had prime seating, placed at the end of the booth so when he leant over to her side she could sneak him a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey hey hey. No one wants your disgusting hetero relationship on display for the world to leer at." Rachel snapped at her, dipping her finger in water and flicking droplets at her.

"Nobody wants a Summers' opinion." Emily jerked her head, her eyes flashing blue and coughing a fireball in her direction. Rachel waved it off with a middle finger.

"Neat trick." Warren said, "You gonna take my job?"

"Wanda calls my powers pyrotechnic chaos. Do you really want me being the next hothead?"

"If you two go in for another kiss I swear you'll both wake up amnesiacs."

"But Quinn," Emily fakes a look of betrayal, "Then we'd forget all the times we've had together."

"And you're not psychic." Magenta adds.

"Details." Quinn shrugs as Warren scoots everyone down the seat so he could take his unofficial break.

"So how was _your _day without me there to brighten it?" Emily asked, grinning in a cheesy manner up at her boyfriend.

He grinned back despite all the groaning around the table and gave her a kiss.

"Aren't you supposed to have gotten all that couple gunk out of your system already?" Magenta wrinkled her nose.

"Look one table over, babe," Quinn also wrinkled his nose, nodding at Layla and Will sharing a drink,"We've got two of them. Just different color sets."

"Speak of the devil." Magenta sneers, and everyone turns their heads to see two girls walk into the restaurant, a redhead and a head with a large array of colors, the most dominant one being black.

"Who? Couples?" Emily asks, squinting at the pair. They could be a pretty cute couple if that dark haired chick didn't look like she had something shoved up her ass.

"No. Well, probably." Quinn laughed at himself, "That's the chick Magenta beat up today. Oh shit, you gave her a black eye! Nice going!"

Zach's leans his head over the booth to hover over Magenta's head.

"Hey, we're going to be cool, right sweetie?" He asks imploringly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'd hate to break her asymmetrical streak by giving her a matching black eye." Magenta then had a small rant in her head documenting every inconsistency in the girl's attire. The sideways bangs, three piercings on one ear and two on the other, different colors on each fingers, the list went on forever.

"Oh, is this 'that bitch' and her mousey friend?" Emily asked, bouncing a little in her seat from the excitement.

"Yes." Warren groaned, and stood up, putting on his apron and cutting off the waiter that was approaching them. He adopted his working smile, which was very charming and almost made Janice swoon once. Then he seated them as far away from the group as possible.

"Don't look now, Ems," Janice whispered, leaning over the booth in a similar manner to Zach so she could tower over Emily's head, "But that bitch is making whore-eyes at your boytoy."

Emily looked, abandoning her short-lived conversation with Penny that was so typical it wasn't even written, her eyes narrowing at "that bitch" grinning flirtatiously and flipping her hair often. Flipping her hair _flirtatiously, _like those skater boys with Bieber hair would flip their hair.

When Warren came back, arm slung around Emily's shoulders, she sent a small smirk to the fuming and jealous "bitch". Yes, it was petty and small of her, but she was oh so weak.

"Blue, you're growling."

"Oh. Sorry." She needed to stop hanging out with Wolverine so much during her breaks. She then looks at Magenta, "You're right. I don't like that girl."

* * *

"God, I can't believe _they're _here." Haylee sneers, glaring at the table that housed "that purple bitch" and her geeky friends, "In _our _sanctuary."

Maia casts a quick glance, and looks back once one of them smiles at her. A girl with blue hair she's never seen before, but was being held by the waiter that Haylee liked.

"And Warren't taken, too? What a fucking shitty ass day."

"Sorry." Maia mutters, looking over her menu regardless of the fact that she was going to have the cashew chicken and some hot tea.

"Damn right it's a sorry thing. Why the fuck does life suck for me?"

"It's just the first day of school. No one has a good day."

"Stop patronizing me. Your day was great, whore."

"What?"

"Yeah. I saw that fake tan douchebag ask you to that party on friday."

"We're both going." And his tan wasn't fake.

"Fuck yeah we're going."

Maia was confused. But she was used to it.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry about the typo in the beginning. There is no Penny Summers. Only Rachel Summers, from the previous additions. Thank you MissBow for pointing it out.


	10. Trouble Downtown

Dinner.

Le Papillon.

A table for two, nestled into the corner of the high class French restaurant, on him of course, and he's wearing Armani on the top and Hudson jeans that prided themselves on making any ass look divine, which was almost coma-inducing when amplifying his already formidable features.

Why couldn't Johnny be ugly?

"I think we should date."

Emily didn't sputter, or choke on her food, or any embarrassing things you usually see in the movies. However, she stopped breathing for a second, turned very red, and her eyes stretched to their limits. Her fork stopped midbite, and she was pretty sure if she hadn't already swallowed she would have thrown it up back on her plate.

"What? We were just talking about how blue was making a comeback and now you're what? Where did this come from?"

"Exactly. We were being entertained talking about a _color_. You are my dream girl."

"I..."

Johnny gave a long, drawn-out sigh.

"Don't tell me this is about your high school boyfriend."

"It isn't." She insisted unconvincingly.

"Listen. I'm guessing you two didn't part hating each other?"

She nodded. He was right. It was more sad than angry on both ends.

"It was probably how all amicable breakups go. You two still want to be together, but there isn't that spark anymore. You're either apathetic when you're together, or it's to hard to be together in the first place. But now that you're both in comfortable positions in your life, you're wondering if you should give it another go. If it'll be as wonderful as it was when you two were first together."

"Thank you, Psych 101." This insight was so unlike John. Was it too much time spent around his sister?

Johnny presses on anyways.

"If you two could've split apart in the first place, what makes him worth the effort of trying again?"

"What makes you worth the effort?" Emily asks. She was back in high school, without a direction and unsure of how she felt.

"Because I'm hardly any effort at all." He smiles suddenly, and the mood lifts slightly. "You don't have to try with me. I'm not in love with an idea of a girl I was in love with in highschool."

She stewed over this, taking a sip of her drink.

"I, however, am _crazy _about this grown-ass woman in front of me."

"Are you gonna win me over with a charming speech listing all of my good qualities?"

"Screw that. You know why you're sexy." Fuck, he was going to tell her anyway, "You and me, we're different but we function on the same level."

"Do we now?"

"Your brain is like this trigger that sparks with mine and makes magic. You know what I did yesterday? I told you about that, right? With the guy who was trying to kamikaze the white house?"

"And you used the blimp to take him down before he could get there and had him spiral into the water. Fun stuff."

"That fun stuff was because of you. Remember the bubbles?"

Emily gave a very feminine snort.

"Good times."

"And why can't we have more good times? Hell, with me you know they'll be more then good times. You'll have the time of your life."

She starts chuckling.

"Yeah, you think I'm sexy." He leans back, flexing every muscle visible above the table, his eyebrows dancing comically.

It's full-on laughter now, and if he weren't an international superhero superstar, the glares sent their way would've lasted more than a second. But Johnny was used to making a spectacle of himself, with the only ones ever giving him any grief being the women in his life.

And after a certain point in his life, with all the whining Reed and Ben did, he started to count them as the women in his life too.

"If you break out into song I'm leaving." She warns, and Johnny gives her a charming grin.

"Go out with me."

She stares at him, at the confident grin but hopeful look in his eyes, thinks about her, about him, about Warren, fuck, even about Janice. Most of all, she thinks about how complicated high school relationships were, and how Warren was still wrapped up in that Sky High lifestyle.

She thinks about how Johnny is uncomplicated.

"Aren't we going out already?"

* * *

Layla, carrying a stack of papers that she eventually drops heavily in front of Warren's stir fry onto the kitchen table. The building they lived in was an interesting design. Each "team" had their own floor, each room with a speaker and alarm in the corner, computers lining all of the walls, and a fully-stocked kitchen. Because of Layla's garden, they had every fruit and vegetable known to man. Because of Ethan's need to eat a different type of cereal every day of the month, they had every cereal known to man.

However, just because they had one of the best kitchens in the building, very little came out of it. Salads and sandwiches were all that anyone knew how to make, other than Warren. He could make stir fry.

And only stir fry.

"I have the perfect plan." She announces, sitting in front of Warren and smiling perkily.

"And what's that." He asks, monotone, used to her and her 'plans'. Probably another greenroom installment.

"By the end of this month, you're going to have Emily back." She says determinedly.

He almost spits out his stir fry.

Thankfully, the alarm rings at just the right time, and the speaker says that there's another robbery downtown.


End file.
